April 17, 2008

"Some Notes for the [enter Democractic nominee's name here] Campaign, If Wanted"

In 2004, Wendell Berry published a commentary entitled Some Notes for the Kerry Campaign, If Wanted in Orion Magazine (later included in the 2005 book "The Way of Ignorance").

Four years later, just months away from another presidential election, Berry's commentary is still vitally, somewhat depressingly relevant.  The stakes are the same; only the names have changed. McCain will try to sound more and more like George W. Bush in order to win back the conservative base - but without mentioning Bush by name, so the media can continue to portray him as a straight-talking maverick. We don't yet know the Democratic nominee, but it now seems likely that, come the general election, Obama or Clinton will face a barrage of attacks similar to those orchestrated by Karl Rove and the Swiftboat Veterans for Truth in 2004.

To my way of thinking, Berry's advice that Kerry should campaign "solidly and clearly on the traditional principles of  politics and religion" is still the best strategy for victory in 2008. Such a message can resonate with voters across the political and socioeconomic spectra. It has the added benefit of being the right thing to do - elevating the political discourse and promoting unity by appealing to our common heritage.  (I have a strong opinion as to which Democratic candidate can best embody and embrace this message, as regular readers of this blog certainly know. But I will leave that for another time.)

Here is Wendell Berry's 2004 essay:

Facing this year's presidential election, our people are bitterly divided. This division is perhaps as great a threat to our future as is the possibility of a second term for Mr. Bush. And so the paramount question for Sen. Kerry's campaign is how to oppose Mr. Bush effectively without so exacerbating the country's political differences as to reduce the possibility of effective government should Sen. Kerry win the election.

One answer, I believe, is to base the campaign solidly and clearly upon our traditional principles of politics and religion. (I am reluctant to say that religion ought to be a political issue in the United States, but it is unstoppably an issue in this campaign.) If the campaign is based soundly enough on principles, then it can be carried out, at least by Democrats, as a reasoned argument, and thus without sensationalizing personal and emotional differences. The further great advantage is that the Bush administration can be shown all too handily to be in violation of many of our country's traditional political and religious principles.

Our government was understood by its founders, and it is understood by many of us still, as a government of laws -- of laws based in part on the laws of God. But the Bush administration, by various arrogations of power, has led us dangerously in the direction of autocracy. A government of laws cannot pardonably ignore either the rights of its citizens or its international treaties. A lot of people now long for national officials who are constantly and strictly mindful of our Bill of Rights.

Our government has a long -- though imperfect and incomplete -- history of international cooperation, the good results of which are now seriously threatened by Mr. Bush's unilateralism and his doctrine of preemptive war.

Both our political and religious traditions instruct us that the truth makes us free. Our kind of government can govern effectively only by telling the truth, just as effective citizenship depends on knowing the truth. Official secrecy and official lies, even in a "good cause," can carry us toward tyranny. Our government is meant to conduct the public's business in public.

Traditionally we have believed, and sometimes have acted on our belief, that political democracy depends upon a significant measure of economic democracy. Since World War II we have changed rapidly from a country owned by many people to a country owned by a few. This has been explicitly the program of some administrations, including that of Mr. Bush. We need an administration that is opposed to such a program. This country should not be entirely owned and run by the great corporations.

Our federal system was conceived as a way to balance national unity with local self-determination and self-sufficiency. Terrorism has made local economic integrity more necessary than ever before. All the regions of our country are dangerously dependent on long-distance transportation. The emphasis in agriculture should now be on genetic diversity, local adaptation, and conservation of energy. We need, for a change, an agriculture policy that focuses above all on the health of the land and the economic prosperity of smaller farmers, rather than the agribusiness corporations.

Along with all the rest of the world's people, we have inherited ancient instructions for the stewardship and good husbandry of the earth, with clear warnings, now significantly verified, of the disasters that will (and already do) attend our failure. We have responded by continuing our elaborately rationalized destructions. But bad precedent is no excuse for bad behavior. The Bush attitude toward the natural (God-given) world is sacrilegious and wildly uneconomic.

The human norm, as established by Christ (and others), is love even for enemies, forgiveness, neighborliness, and peace. It is therefore troubling that members of the present administration, while making much of their commitment to Christ, are insisting on the normality of hatred, greed, revenge, and unremitting war. To make us afraid, they speak much of the willingness of our terrorist enemies to kill themselves in order to kill us, as if this were an innovation. They forget, or they would like us to forget, that our policy of nuclear defense has been suicidal from the beginning. Our increasing destructiveness of the natural world is likewise suicidal. Such desperate security and prosperity cannot be reconciled with reverence for our Creator, who endowed all humans with certain inalienable rights, including life
.

April 16, 2008

Untitled Poem No. 3

When can I drink you, my wine?
Let my lips touch your lips
    and make you a part of my self?
Advance through these veins and conquer
    all of me
From the toes that love to touch your
    toes to my knees that sometimes
    shake to the brain and bits of system
    that explode when I am with you.
When I am shy, loosen my tongue.
When I am a poet, fasten it tight.
That for once I might be silent
Then, at last, you will be mine.

April 14, 2008

My Favorite New Blog...

Thecow

is the The Artist and the Farmer. The picture above is a painting-in-progress by The Artist.

April 13, 2008

Untitled Poem No. 2

i do not see your face in the moon
though once i saw your face in the moonlight, and
i cannot find you in the sunset
though once we walked
through an explosion of amber, ruby and topaz
and talked of nothing and all things and sun things.
i look for you in the stars of steel
and space-age plastics that orbit my backyard,
relaying phone calls not from you and television programs
     you never approved of.
once i had you but now I have lost you.
yet i do not suffer from the delusions of the brokenhearted,
because i do not see you everywhere i go.
i see only that you are not with me.

April 12, 2008

Poem Of The Week

Ramón Chaparro is a good friend of mine - more like family, really.

He is restless, a kind of vagabond poet-theologian, with a heart for the far-flung and the forgotten, and a knack for creating community wherever he goes. (I sometimes imagine that he must have a lot in common with Rich Mullins, the late singer-songwriter.)

Throughout the month of April, Ramón is posting one of his poems each day on his website. "A Long Week" is my favorite so far, and not just because it reflects the author's intelligence, sensitivity, wit, and deep wisdom. It's just really, really good.

I posted it on the Burnside Writers Collective blog as the Poem Of The Day. If there is anyone who visits this site but doesn't regularly visit the BWC blog, you should read Ramón's poem by going to either the BWC or Ramón's personal blog.

April 11, 2008

9/11/02

The rivers run.
The tides change,
And the mountains are gradually worn down to a nub.
And I,
I go to sleep each night to the sound of the shopping
    network that takes over our local CBS affiliate in the
    early hours of the morning,
Secure in the knowledge that if anything truly
    momentous happens
Dan Rather will interrupt the TV personalities peddling costume
    jewelry
And I,
I will be the first to know.
The rivers run.
The tides change,
The desert advances, like an army,
And the insomniacs and the senior citizens keep the wheels of
    capitalism turning long into the night.

April 10, 2008

Untitled Poem No. 1

I want to be a poet.
I want to be Pablo Neruda,
Because you loved Pablo Neruda.

You loved his Latin-ness:
Es tan corto el amir, y es tan largo el olvido.
I want to be Latin.
I want to be in translation.

Neruda said things to you that I never could.
I wanted to name you the queen.
I wanted to cast my net into your oceanic eyes.
Did I never mention any of this?
No matter:
You had eyes for only Neruda.

I want to use words like blood and
Barley and
Gypsum and
Skin and
Get away with it.

I want to be a tortured genius.
I want you to introduce me to your sister as
"My poet, my melancholy one, whom I love."
We would sit on the rock wall overlooking your ocean, and
I would write you poems that I hated but you loved.

I want to be a communist.

I want to live in exile.
I want to attend parties for all our expatriate friends, where

You would introduce me again as
"My poet, my melancholy one, whom I love."
And I would nod politely.

Then I would pull you over to a darkened
Corner of the room and monopolize your attention there.
I would ask you questions and drink.
I would whisper poems in your ear
And kiss you again in front of all our expatriate friends.

April 09, 2008

Shop Talk

Dominant Male, requires adoring and
obedient submissive for strict discipline
and body worship.

Vintage-model SWM, 50, looking for
experienced driver with well-kept garage who
prefers smooth driving for possible long-distance
adventure. I handle mountain roads well and

still have juice in the battery.
Voice Mailbox 50235.
She circles this one with her felt-tip
pen and mumbles a kind of voodoo

mantra, willing the red ink,
this unbroken circle of her own blood, to
keep out the others. She saw him first.
She claims 50235 for herself and they consume

each other with the fierce, impetuous
hunger of books she is to proud to read.
She calls and leaves a message:
whispering semi-erotic shop talk

about garages and tools and classic cars and
how she is getting hot. Mmm, so hot.

Now they are zipping through the Sierras in 50235’s
Cadillac – a convertible – his platinum
hair impervious to the wind
and he is so dashing. He smiles

this disarming smile…shockingly white teeth (all real)
…and his bronze skin a leather landscape…
and they listen to good jazz as they drive…
and, God, she is so witty.

Friendship and more. SWF seeking
feminine middle-aged man hater with
no sexual hang-ups.
This is unexplored territory for her.

Now they are sharing a plate of sashimi and
oyster shooters at The Raw Bar. Now they are going
to poetry readings at the Pink Flamingo…
and they sit in front of the fireplace…hot

on her skin…and she is soft…
and men – the bastards – are the furthest
thing from her mind

as 61834 moves a hand
further up her thigh.

Faithfully yours. Two Ch men, one shy,
one outgoing, seeking 2 Ch women, for private Bible
study, must have humor, sensitivity, security,
nonsmokers only.

MWF seeking anybody,
warm hands but cold feet,
pours over the personals each evening at
her kitchen table and lives a 2nd-hand

life there. Oldest son upstairs
annihilating zombies on his computer.
Husband throwing touchdown passes
from the pocket of his La-Z-Boy chair.

The Artist and the Farmer

I've added a new blog to the "People to See" list at left. It's called The Artist and the Farmer and is maintained by a fantastic writer who also happens to be Dave's wife. You should check it out.

April 08, 2008

Blogging Poetry

I mentioned in a previous post that I am posting a new poem each day on the Burnside Writers Collective blog in honor of National Poetry Month. And - can I just say? - I'm loving it. I read for at least twenty hours a week, immersing myself in novels, memoirs and biographies, books on science, nature, history, and Americana. But, with the exception of a survey class I took in college, this is the first time I have interacted with poetry - especially poetry from a diverse group of poets - on a daily basis. I don't want it to end. I'm sad for the inevitability of May.

I'm considering different ways of carrying on this project after April ends. One idea is to post a "poem of the day" here on The Goblin, with a format similar to the one I'm using now on the BWC.

I'm also considering starting a new blog called something like "The Poetry Almanac," which would feature daily poems, historical information, poetry news from around the web, book reviews, and more. I foresee at least three problems with starting a "Poetry Almanac."

The first problem is one of practicality: I already maintain one blog (and inconsistently at that), contribute to a second blog, and owe outstanding "assignments" for a third site. Where would I find the time for a new blog?

The second problem is one of legality: What are the copyright requirements for posting poetry on a blog, since I wouldn't want to limit my poems to those in the public domain (i.e., dead white dudes)?

The third problem is one of reality: The word "almanac" implies, if not comprehensive knowledge, then at least wide-ranging familiarity with a subject, which I certainly do not have with poetry. Any poetry blog would necessarily flow from my own inexperience. (This is the actually the least of my concerns; a little water behind the ears could conceivably be an asset.)

Do any of you have opinions/advice for me?

National Poetry Month has also caused me to dig deep into my personal archives to find my own erstwhile attempts at poetry. I've written a total of ten poems in my life, with no immediate plans to write more. I imagine that poets labor over their poems like a labor over my prose (blog excepted), obsessing over words, balancing precision with rhythm and tone and pitch. I've never written a poem that way. My poems come in flashes of inspiration and seem to write themselves. I rarely revise and I'm sure it shows.

That being said, in a burst of April exuberance I am sure I will come to regret, I've decided to post several of my own poems here on The Goblin, starting tomorrow. The last time these poems saw the light of day was when my younger brother Dustin bullied me into reading them at one of his coffee shop concerts. Dustin, a gifted singer-songwriter, is the real poet in the family. (You can see him play at Muddy Waters in Portland on April 26.) Strangely, that my poems are  unpolished and unsophisticated doesn't bother me enough to keep them buried in my computer hard drive. I blame it on National Poetry Month.

Update: Two friends (Ramon and Kimberly) are posting on their blogs poems they've written. Check them out.

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